


Butterflies and Hurricanes

by orphan_account



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Post Apocalypse, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:20:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22896337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The world's ended. He's stuck with a loud edgelord and a friendly blonde, and all of their thoughts are projected, all the time, in a burble known as the Noise. What could possibly go wrong?
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	Butterflies and Hurricanes

**Author's Note:**

> if u can name all the songs i sprinkled in this, u get a virtual hug :-)

_Before you run away from me  
Before you're lost between the noise_

_The beat goes round and round  
The beat goes round and round_

_I never really got there  
I just pretended that I had_

_What's the point of instruments  
Words are a sawed off shotgun_

—

_Slap._

Chris grumbled and smacked whatever the hell it was away from his face. Felt like cardboard. 

Nothing much was left.

His bleary eyes opened slowly, readjusting to the sight of the reddish sky and the hazy sunlight. Everything seemed to be calm now. All he remembered from before was the cacophony of the Noise mixed with desperate screams and rumbles, deep like thunder, and loud crumbles and crashes as buildings and monuments fell to their demise. Thick clouds formed a fog and it was almost impossible to breathe during the chaos. At least now it’s a bit more breathable. 

Still red.

The Noise died out almost completely. Except for one little nearby red buzzing, seething with rage and spitting out as many snarky comments and foul words as possible. Chris’ Noise stayed calm and brighter than most, maybe a ‘sky’ blue or softer shade of purple. Mumbles and little remarks about the world around him, curious and playful, awakening to this ‘new’ world he was now stuck in. The other, new Noise was frustrated yet cocky, cursing, perhaps at the fact that they couldn’t do anything as the world ended. 

He sat up and rubbed his neck. Wounds and gashes still in place - of course they weren’t going to just disappear, but raw flesh and torn skin were the least of his worries. 

“Was waiting for you to wake up,” a harsh, cold voice snarled. It sounded almost muffled. “I’ve been sitting here to see what your _sorry ass_ can do for me.”

Chris turned his head to see a man. A small man sitting on what looked to be a squashed cardboard box on a rock. Explains the thing on him earlier, at least. His dark head of hair fell over some of his face. 

He was tiny. Playing with something in his hands, brows furrowed, eyes hooded and staring intensely at the object between his bandaged, dirty fingers. The thing looked like a bit of crumpled up foil. A black mask was on him, too. Covered half of his face. Six metal spikes jutted out from it. He donned a flowy coat and dirty gloves, both in the same black as about everything else he had on. Brownish dust and blood was smeared on his face and clothing. 

Then he looked up. Blue eyes. “You heard me, sunshine.”

“Oh- Hello!” Chris smiled, “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?”

“None of your fuckin’ business.”

“You know, it’s nice to introduce yourself.” Chris turned himself around so the rest of him was facing this new character. “I’ll ask again. What’s your name?”

The man huffed. “Sickly sweet... Matt. Just call me Matt.”

“I’m Chris. Nice to meet you, it’s about time I found someone out here.” He extended a hand towards Matt.

“You just woke up,” Matt snapped. “What do you mean ‘about time’?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s a saying.”

“Like I care.” Matt tossed the foil over his shoulder and stood up, looming over Chris. He in turn stood up as well, towering over Matt by more than a head, grinning when he could see the ever so subtle panic on the smaller man’s face. 

Matt shrugged. “Alright, beanstalk.” 

“Oompa Loompa.”

“I’m n-“ He paused. “...The Noise. It’s gone.”

“Except for ours.”

Matt ran a hand through his hair, “Everyone’s _seriously_ gone.” He became gradually quieter.

“Yep.”

He squeaked, “And we’re the only ones left.”

“Precisely.”

“And I’m stuck with _you_?”

Chris stepped back as he watched Matt fall to his knees and slam his fists into the dust, uttering a loud, furious scream. 

“You _better_ not be the only person out here,” Matt spat, dramatically craning his neck to look at Chris with a scowl. All it did was get a good chuckle out from him. “You are not anyone I’d eat with, laugh with, explore with _or_ fuck with. You’re like, um.. a slab of concrete! Ha! Yeah.” He got to his feet again and stared right at Chris with his attempt at a dark expression, eyes hooded with his brows in their typical furrowed state. Maybe one day Chris would get to see what Matt looked like without the mask.

“We’ll find out.” Chris brushed some of the dust from his shirt and jeans. “You can be all edgy or whatever some other time. We’re the only ones left in this dump, so get used to it. Besides, I’d imagined that you already realised all Noise is gone.”

Matt scoffed, “Shut up.”

Chris raised his eyebrows at him. “Ooh, look at you, pretty tough for a little guy.”

“Shut it, Andre the Giant.”

“Not even your platform boots can elevate you this high.”

Matt attempted a tackle at Chris. He deemed himself too tough to be shoved over. “Stop it!”

“ _You_ initiated this, short stack,” Chris said, shoving Matt off of him. “Next time, ask if you want a hug.” He smirked.

“I’m not short!” 

“Hobbit.”

“Flagpole.”

“Shy Guy.”

“Shut the _fuck_ up!”

“No.”

“No, _shut up_ ,” Matt slapped a hand across Chris’ mouth. “I can hear Noise.”

And they listened. Kind of like a gentle hum, seemed yellowish or bright green, adventurous, lost soul, burbling little things to themself in wonder. Everyone with Noise would be doing that. But this Noise in particular sounded friendlier than most. It scurried about like a mouse. The person it was coming from seemed to be just waking up. Wherever they were. 

“What if they can hear us?” Matt released his hand. “I’ll fuckin’ clock them if they try anything on us.”

Chris whispered, “Let’s find them, maybe?”

“What else would we do?” 

—

_And I'll feel my world crumbling down_

_Feel my life crumbling now  
Feel my soul crumbling away_

_Falling away  
Falling away with you_

—

The new Noise became the tiniest bit louder as they approached a particular dumpster, lid wide open and smothered in rust. Various bits of debris and garbage bags surrounded the thing. Two slow legs awoke from their slumber and draped over the edge of the bin. Matt looked over to Chris. It was hard to tell what his emotions were. If it wasn’t for his ability to speak and move his eyebrows and facial muscles, Chris would probably think Matt was a blank slate. Constantly. The smaller man knocked on the side of the rusted metal and waited. Waited for something, anything. 

Matt flinched. 

Sleepily, the person grumbled and sat themselves up, eyes covered by their messy head of blonde hair - strands sticking out in every direction. They shook their head and brushed off the assortment of trash on their body. Now that they’d awoken, their Noise was at its loudest. 

Chris was never fond of Noise. It was always this constant buzz, on repeat all day every day like a broken record, stuck in his head - despite Noise just being loud, projected thoughts. Everyone could hear all of your thoughts, all the time, loud and clear for everyone to know how sick of a bastard you are or how lovely you are, but it was always just this amalgamation of speech that you couldn’t really clearly hear anyone in particular. He’d almost break down if he tried listening to it. It was just too much. One thing Chris was thankful for was the fact that oceans and countries and towns separated Noises, for whatever reason. This place had its Noise. Next town over had its Noise, and on and on. Each Noise had its own character, he reckoned. Some places were rowdy and others just wanted some peace.

The person grumbled again and turned to face Matt and Chris, eyes in mere slits as they barely managed to scan the two of them from head to toe. They mumbled, “Never seen you two before.”

Matt piped up, “That’s bec-“

Chris shoved Matt away with a smile. “Haven’t seen you around either. What’s your name?”

“Dom. I’m Dom.” He rubbed his eyes. 

“Name’s Chris. That’s Matt over there, he’s an interesting character.” He pointed to Matt sitting on the ground, arms crossed. Chris liked to imagine he was pouting under that mask.

“New friends, new friends...” Dom pulled himself up and leaped over the edge of the dumpster, landing on his feet with a stumble. He wore an oversized, ragged grey sweater and what looked to be skinny jeans, dusty black and practically skin tight, along with a pair of leather boots. He sighed, “I used to live about a block away from here. D’you want to come see it with me?”

Chris frowned. “Wouldn’t it be destroyed?”

“Duh, but I just wanna see if I can salvage anything. We can start over and make a new house, just for the three of us.”

—

_At night they would go walking 'till the breaking of the day  
The morning is for sleeping  
Through the dark streets, they go searching, to see God in their own way  
Save the nighttime for your weeping_

—

“So, this is.. it?” 

Matt picked up one of the bricks and tossed it. “Boring."

The poor thing looked like it had been blown up. Probably was. Everything went to pure pandemonium during 'the end', so anything could've happened. Debris and rubble were pretty much all there was to the site. 

"Basically," Dom muttered. His Noise seemed to turn more blue as the seconds passed. "We could take this stuff as foundation for a new place. The bricks, I mean."

Chris' eyes lit up. "How would we carry it?" 

"We don't need to do anything now. Looks like we have this whole joint to ourselves, anyway."

"Okay...”

Matt’s Noise foamed in frustration and annoyance. He kicked some of the debris around, clouds of dust swirling around. He grumbled, “Fucking- all of this is stupid, we’re done for, there’s nothing left anyway-“ He bent over to pick up a large piece of concrete and threw it at the ground, laughing obnoxiously as it all crumbled into fragments. The dust kept kicking up.

Chris glared at him. “Matt. C’mon.”

“What?”

“Could you _please_ just be a decent human being for, I don’t know, one minute?” Chris huffed as he watched Matt pick up another portion of concrete and stomp all over it.

“That’s boring. I don’t wanna do that,” Matt groaned. "Wanna break shit."

Chris snapped, “I’ve only known you for thirty minutes and you’re already the biggest asshole I’ve ever encountered.” His Noise turned almost crimson, threatening and shallow. 

“Haven’t heard that one before!”

“Maybe you’ve heard it so many times _for good reason_. Oh, and you don’t need a mask. You’re not cool.” 

Matt hissed, “Oh, you’re gonna fucking get it-“ He cracked his knuckles.

“Hey! Back off from each other,” Dom snickered. “We really don’t need to argue.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but immediately dropped his thought when the bickering started again.

Purely, purely useless.

—

_I'd tell all my friends but they'd never believe me  
They'd think that I'd finally lost it completely  
I'd show them the stars and the meaning of life  
They'd shut me away  
But I'd be alright_

—

Before them was a surprisingly intact, abandoned supermarket. The windows were covered in ugly looking stains and splatters, fogged up from the inside out. Its doors swung open in the wind. Dom and Chris watched as Matt sprinted inside, like an excited child in a toy store. They soon followed behind.

The supermarket wasn’t too damaged. Cartons and boxes were knocked over all around, items on shelves were scattered everywhere, assorted fruits splattered all over the dirtied linoleum floor, giving it a rotten fruit sort of smell. Dom frowned. 

“I used to buy things here,” he said.

Matt’s Noise tumbled and tossed about from the other side of the supermarket. He shouted out curse words to echo, cackling wildly as he darted through the aisles. Like a child.

“I might’ve as well,” Chris mumbled. “I lived somewhere else. A lot of the stuff I’ve seen isn’t that familiar.”

Dom laughed, “That’s probably because it’s all destroyed.” 

And in came a hurricane, a short, black clad hurricane on two tiny legs. Matt was cradling a bunch of squished, mangled oranges in his arms, the juice from them dribbling down his gloves. “Hey, check this out!” He picked one out with his hand and threw it up at the ceiling, snorting as bits of the fruit splattered everywhere. “It’s better than arguing with you twats.”

“You’re making a mess,” Chris said. “And it’ll rot.”

“But there’s no one to stop us!” Matt handed them an orange each. “Liven up a little!”

They shared a look. Dom hurled his one at a far wall instead, snickering as it made a loud splat against the surface, bits of it flying out in all directions. “You got any more of those?” 

“There’s an area where they’re all over the floor. I saw some fuckin’ watermelons too!” The corners of Matt’s eyes crinkled. They could only assume he was smiling, finally. “I’ll be right back.” He ran off around the corner of the aisle, his platform boots and his Noise thundering as he collected whatever the hell it was, followed by the sound of shopping carts rolling about. Soon enough, he returned with a cart full of distressed fruits.

He handed one of the watermelons to Dom and watched eagerly as he heaved it at the floor below their feet, obliterating it and getting chunks of it all over their legs.

“I think we’ll be painting this place orange and red.”

—

_Well, now then, mardy bum  
I've seen your frown and it's like looking down  
The barrel of a gun  
And it goes off  
And out come all these words  
Oh, there's a very pleasant side to you  
A side I much prefer_

—

The three sat outside the now trashed supermarket, smelling like fruit. Boxes and packets of snacks surrounded them. 

“Hey, Matt?” Chris said. “Why do you have the mask?”

Matt felt his heart sink. “No reason.”

“Come on. There’s gotta be one.”

He paused. “... _Well_ , it’s not something I can explain.”

“Why is that?”

Matt pulled down his mask. The entire lower half of his face was ravaged, a reddish-brown in colour and coated with gashes and wounds. His lips weren’t there anymore, either. Wide, gaping slits were at the corners of his mouth. They didn’t look self inflicted. Horrid. "See?”

Chris gasped. “Oh my God...”

“Don’t talk about it,” Matt lifted it up again. “I look so ugly without this. Now you know why I wear what I wear.”

“Is your, uh...” Chris gestured to Matt’s body. “Is it like that as well?”

“Can’t confirm nor deny anything,” Matt pulled his coat sleeves down and curled up into a ball, laying facing away from Chris. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” His Noise fizzled out into something more guilty. Sad, even. He droned to himself about his own matters in his Noise, murmuring about some kind of old, freak accident. Chris refused to listen.

Dom cleared his throat. “I reckon you don’t need the mask.”

“Bullshit.” Matt grumbled.

“You look fine without it. And neither of called you ugly, did we? And you didn’t hear it in our Noises?” 

“No...”

Dom and Chris smiled at him. 

“I’ll find out more about you two one day.”

—

_I will take the blow for you  
And I've had recurring nightmares  
That I was loved for who I am  
And missed the opportunity  
To be a better man_

**Author's Note:**

> hello i wig snatched the concept of the Noise from a book :0 it's called _The Knife of Never Letting Go_ by Patrick Ness!!! i recommend!!!


End file.
